Direct Red
by Queen Mariko
Summary: A routine reconnaissance mission leaves only one hope to make everything right: Project Direct Red.


**Canon Verse:** Stargate Atlantis

**Pairing: **None

**Warning: **War violence, medical procedure, death.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Stargate Atlantis_

* * *

"_Methylene Blue. Acridine Orange. Saffron. Malachite Green. Tyrian Purple. Hoffman's Violet. Direct Red."_

-Gabriel Weston

* * *

.

**Direct Red**

**.**

Dr McKay read the information on M5S-237 that was stored in the Ancient Database. It was a small moon with luscious forests orbiting a gas giant. There was a Stargate near its equator and, supposedly, a village nearby. Of course, many things could have changed in the thousands of years since the Database had been updated, but there was no way to convince Dr Weir to send a MALP. Not since they had lost or damaged over half of the supply.

He, along with the rest of Colonel Sheppard's team, had been ordered to procure a trading agreement with the inhabitants. _You might be surprised_, Elizabeth had said. The leader was hoping to find an advanced civilization to help them better defend against the Wraith, and she was not the only one. Dr McKay was eager to get his hands on more alien technology. But he found it highly unlikely that there was any planet, or moon, which had developed to a standard that he would call 'advanced'. So, with a sigh, he downloaded all the information they had about the moon and went to dial the 'Gate.

As soon as he stepped through the wormhole on the other side, Dr McKay realized that something very radical had, indeed, happened to the moon in the past ten thousand years. They appeared to be in the middle of a square. There were giant blocks on all sides, the glint that was once held in the glass panes long gone and covered with dust. Craters dotted the vast surface of the concrete square, bodies lined the side streets and there was a deafening roar as explosions shook the ground.

He was certain of three things: the luscious forests were urban jungles, there was a war going on, and they were caught in the crossfire. As beams of energy and bullets flew past their heads, the team dashed for the DHD in the hopes of finding shelter from the shots that were coming from all around.

The scientist crouched by the DHD trying to make himself as small as possible. He considered dialing the gate and getting away from the danger zone but decided against it – there was no way he would survive. Rodney saw the rest of his team looking around, searching for a hideout, but there was nothing close by.

A hole appeared in the concrete three feet from their position and a soldier came out, shooting a giant canon to the East. Like the Delta Force on Earth the man, or woman for it was hard to tell, was wearing a hard hat, urban combat fatigues and a bulletproof vest. On the left shoulder was a red cross stitched on a white background, and the patch was the about only part of the uniform that had not been stained red.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" She shouted over the noise, her voice hoarse though clearly feminine.

Colonel Sheppard answered. "I'm Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, this is Dr Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagen and Ronon Dex. We're peaceful explorers and traders. We came through the Stargate." He yelled back, pointing to each of them in turn then to the Stargate.

"This is not a good time to be here exploring, Colonel. Come on!" The soldier told them. "I'll take you to the safe zone."

She disappeared back down the hole and they followed. The tunnel was large enough for all of them to walk comfortably, even Ronon. It was much quieter down here, with the shots being heard as only a strong wind. The interior of the underpass was concrete all around, which helped dampen the cacophony up on the ground.

"Are you a doctor?" John asked the woman, indicating to her patch. .

"Yes. I'm a combat medic and trauma surgeon." The medic's voice was very hoarse, she had no doubt been shouting over the noise above.

Her radio came to life. "_We're retreating, get back to base"._

"What? We still have guys out there, we can't leave them!"

"_You heard me, get back to base! Asortal out."_

She turned back to them. "Alright, single file. And please don't touch the walls – there's a charge that will make the whole tunnel collapse regardless of where you touch it and who's in it. So be careful. This way."

The medic lead them through a myriad of tunnels, collapsing each one after they were through and she checked to make sure nobody was in it over radio. There was constantly somebody broadcasting that they were at the base on all frequencies. She had a data pad in hand and was marking each of them off. They wanted to ask her what the war was about, but every time they were about to, the radio would interrupt. McKay made to comment on it, but Sheppard stopped him. "That's important." He said.

At last, after an hour of walking, they arrived at the base. It consisted of a large chamber with a raised pedestal at one end. There were doors leading to other parts of it, most likely barracks and the like, on the sidewalls. The hall was devoid of any color, with only splashes of red from the soldiers breaking the monotonous concrete grey.

Everybody was in a tight circle near the center of the room, looking at something. By the sounds that were coming from the object of their attentions, it was another person. And whoever it was was not faring well.

"What's going on?" Rodney asked nobody in particular.

Ronon, being a head taller than most of the room's occupants was able to see, and began explaining. It was a prisoner. He, with his arms tied behind his back and a leg snapped and jutting out at a horrific angle, was being beaten up by one of the soldiers. The rest were cheering and jeering, taking a sick joy in the man's cries and continuing mutilation.

A man stepped up onto the stage and shouted an "Attention!".

The one who had been striking the prisoner unsheathed a blade and sliced his throat. Another splatter of red interrupt the grey. "You would hardly believe how much that would alter his person for the worse!" The onlookers laughed mercilessly.

"Attention!"

With a groan, the rest of the soldiers gathered closer to listen. The woman who had led them continued signing people off as if to deliberately ignore her surroundings.

"Thank you. My fellow Diasans, this civil war has made us weak and vulnerable to attack from the Wraith. We will not give up our battle for our right to rule, but measures must be taken. Measures that will ensure our survival. So Lord See-Ar, in his glorious wisdom," he spat those last words out with disdain. "has come up with a plan. We have built a machine that is capable of transporting planets to other dimensions, taking them out of phase as it were. In one hour, Elmea will be taken to another dimension where we can continue our battle without fear of intervention from the outside forces of the Wraith. So pack your bags!"

"Air Commander Asortal, there is still a five-man strike team ten miles out. They were ambushed and need medical assistance."

The room snickered.

"You can't get there, fix them and get them back here to go through the Space Bridge in under one hour, Doctor. " Commander Asortal retorted. He had a harsh and arrogant high-pitched voice that raked one's nerves. The doctor, the same one that had lead them down here, looked down and passed a thick green ribbon through her gloved fingers.

"I'm staying." She declared, looking up and around. "I can't promise a ride home to anyone, but they need our help and we don't leave our people behind. Will anyone come with me?"

"At least one of them has the right idea." Rodney muttered under his breath after nobody stepped forward.

John did. "We'll come with you."

The medic smiled, exposing a row of teeth that looked to be in good condition except for the layer of mud and grime coating them. She had obviously been in the field for a while and seen some action.

Commander Asortal cocked an eyebrow at the strangers but did not comment. Instead, he cast their rescuer a nasty smile and said: "Don't expect us to wait for your asses. The rest of you, get packing!"

The medic turned to them. "Thank you. I realized that I never introduced myself. I'm June Iste."

"Nice to meet you." Colonel Sheppard replied almost automatically. "Are there tunnels to get to them?"

"Unfortunately, no, there are no tunnels in that quadrant. The layer of concrete isn't deep enough to make them safely. We'll have to go topside then head back to the Stargate and take that…somewhere…" She checked over her weapon and the supplies she had in her bag. "What radio frequency do you use?" June tuned her radio to the frequency Rodney said. Then, a nod told them that she was set.

"Lead the way." John gestured towards one of the exits.

"The way is this way." She smiled, taking the directly opposite doorway. Sheppard slowly retracted his hand.

They followed her to the surface where she set off at a fast jog. Rodney groaned and started protesting the change in speed when an energy blast flew close to his head. He sprinted to catch up with Sheppard, keeping low like the rest of them.

The medic lead them through desolate streets and abandoned buildings. She tried to stay out of the open and chose roads that looked like they had not seen traffic in decades. There were several roadblocks caused by collapsed buildings that they had to go over. Iste leapt over them with a grace that Rodney did not think anyone could have; but he had not seen many people vault barricades.

She, Ronon and John worked together like they had been a unit for years. When the group would reach an intersection, the three would take up positions and scan the area for the enemy without being told what to do. It made Rodney realize that even though Teyla and he were in the team for a while now, neither of them had ever been in a ground-based war with guns. The scientist was amazed at how easily Sheppard and Ronon had gotten into the swing of it.

He huffed and was sweating from the exertion. Running ten miles and leaping over piles of rocks without food was definitely not his thing. No, running in general was not his thing, but this was plain torture. He had several stitches and his legs were jelly. His throat felt like it had been sanded, his heart was beating too hard and his shoulder felt funny. And he was certain he had twisted his ankle a while back as it was sending pangs of pain through his spine each time he put his weight on it.

Teyla was helping, dragging him along and boosting him over things. "Dr McKay, please try to breath with less noise. It will be much more uncomfortable if we must also avoid energy shots." She whispered in his ear. He closed his mouth and tried to breathe through his nose, but it was no use as they were on the move again.

Not soon enough, they stopped inside a house that looked more derelict than anything around it. June called out "Medic, Diasan!" and he heard several footsteps come around before the owner stepped out of the shadows, weapon drawn.

"Kalieu, lower you gun please. These people are here to help."

With some reluctance the man lowered his gun, though he still watched them cautiously. "Stanioul's hurt bad. This way."

Rodney was feeling numb by now, so did not mind moving more. They entered a more enclosed area where a soldier lay unconscious on the ground. There was another man kneeling beside him, pressing down hard on the patient's bandaged chest.

June took out a handheld scanner and shone a laser beam over the senseless soldier. As an image began forming on the small screen, she immediately set to work. After putting an oxygen mask on his head, she opened a compartment in her bag and took tools out with sterile surgical gloves she had changed into. A quick nod to the kneeling man, and the bandage was removed.

There was a spray of blood but it fell to the floor without hitting anybody. The medic ignored it as she made another incision and opened it with a retractor, cracking the man's chest after. Rodney could not see exactly what she did next, but the bleeding stopped. The medic closed the wound and cleaned Stanioul's chest of the blood. She transfused blood, and then administered antibiotics. June unfolded a gurney and the two moved him onto it, ready to depart.

"We should wait for a bit more. Chere will contact us to see where we are before he takes Elmea to another dimension. We don't want the radio attracting attention."

Kalieu left to return to his post as the Atlaneans, for that was what they were now, settled down with June. The medic sat cross-legged beside her patient, shuffling on her bum to find a more comfortable position on the uneven concrete. Both Sheppard and Ronon did the same. Maybe it worked for them, but it just hurt McKay's skin.

M5S-237, Rodney observed, was covered in concrete. They had not seen any trees, bushes or plants of any sort during the ten-mile run. Everything was concrete; smashed, crumbled, cracked, uneven concrete. It made Rodney wonder what had happened to the planet.

"Cornelli," she addressed Stanioul's friend. "Where's everybody else?"

He shook his head. "Thank's for coming for us, Doc." June nodded sadly.

After a moment of silence, Sheppard asked the question sitting on everybody's mind. "Any chance you could tell us about this war. How it started, what you're fighting for. Because every time I want to ask your radio," John jabbed his finger in the direction of the offending machine. "interrupts."

"Elmea, our home, was ruled by a caste system. Not necessarily a bad thing, at first anyway. Everybody was very specialized in what they did, and they got paid accordingly. But about ten years ago, everything changed. The high castes began imposing impossible deadlines, paying workers less though they worked more. They wanted the middle and low castes to labor without complaining and without bragging rest. So there was an uprising. It escalated from a small coup of a factory, to a rather large rebellion, then, to an all out war.

Soon after, an agreement was struck to move the battlefield to this place, our moon. Nobody wanted our home to be destroyed, so this place was considered an acceptable loss. After the indigenous population was driven out, the fighting began. And it has yet to stop. I don't know what will happen after Elmea goes out of phase because all the Sheck, as the opponents call themselves, will still be here."

As they digested all that she had said, the radio blared. A man with a British accent came on the line. "_June, where are you? Elmea will be out of faze in one minute!"_

"I know, Chere. I can't make it. I'll see you again." Her voice had softened as she spoke gently into the radio.

"_I need you to remember something for me, this is really important, okay." _Chere's worried and soothing tones took on a desperate edge. "_Remember 'Direct Red'."_

"I'll remember for you. Direct Red." A burst of static threatened the connection. June faced away, looking towards the Diasan base. "Chere, can you hear me? I… I love you. I will always love you…" Then the connection was lost as Elmea was transported to another dimension.

Iste stayed turned with her back to the rest of them, a gust of wind revealing her to be looking at the same green ribbon as before. Her shoulders rose and fell as she breathed deeply. Then, facing the group once again, she sat back down.

"Any ideas on where to go now?"

All the soldiers looked at each other, none saying anything. It was obvious that they did not know.

Colonel Sheppard cleared his throat. "You can stay on Atlantis with us, for a while at least. Just, none of that bashing thing your 'friends' were doing back on base."

"Of course. I am ashamed that you had to see that. And, I find myself once again owing you and your team a debt of gratitude. Thank you." She stood up. "Lets go now."

* * *

It has been three months since we arrived on Atlantis. Everybody was on edge around us, they probably heard about how those idiots who want to lead us treat prisoners. It would have been better off if less people had sided with us. But anyway, things are looking up. I smiled to myself as soon as I thought that. The people of Earth had an interesting way of phrasing ideas.

They are lovely people, Colonel Sheppard, Dr Weir, Ronon, Teyla, Dr Keller, even Dr McKay. Probably does not say too much for the guys I used to hang out with if I find him 'lovely'.

Stanioul is recovering very well, and will be walking around soon. Kalieu and Cornelli take turns watching him to the point where he has started getting annoyed. I do not know if they do it for him, or to keep themselves sane. They do not know what to do with themselves. After fighting for so long, it is hard to stop. To just lay down arms and start living again.

I think the best is to just forget. Forget about what has transpired in the past, forget about the life that was lead, forget about the life that was wanted. Just live in the moment. No regrets. But, it never is quite so easy.

I look out over the balcony to the eastern spires of Atlantis. The sun is shining like it does so often on this planet. I never thought I would have missed it so much. It's warm and soothing. And, for all that has happened and that will happen, I am at peace.

The wind blows my ribbon out of my hair. That wide one Chere gave me when he realized I had never had a ribbon before. He had a passion for anything green, it was as strong as my distaste for the color. So he had spent days on end trying to find the perfect shade of Malachite Green, the only type that I would accept. I want to catch it, but decide not to. Moving on. Living. It does not matter anyway.

Miraculously I find myself not caring about what happens next. Chere knew we would never see each other again, that's why he avoided saying any farewells. With seconds left before we were split forever, he made me promise him something; how typical. He made me promise to make everything right. Chere gave me a mission, a mission that I am Hell bent on carrying out.

Ten thousand years ago, every bright mind in the Pegasus Galaxy convened to make a machine so powerful that it should never be used. They called themselves and the project Direct Red. It would be used to undo the mistakes that would lead to oceans and planets turning red. It was built so that tomorrow, when the war began with the Wraith, there was always an escape. A salvation. I suppose the Alterrans never got the chance to use it. That means it is still here, hidden away in Atlantis.

This machine, Project Direct Red, will save my planet. It may even save the galaxy. But first, I have to find it. My name is June Iste. I am a Diasan field surgeon. While saving my patients, I have killed more people than can remember the faces of, in all six hundred and forty three different ways possible. I regret nothing. I regret everything. I cannot forget.

I am Direct Red.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This one-shot was inspired by_ Blackhawk Down, _and Gabriel Weston's _Direct Red. _


End file.
